


The Wolf and the Mamba

by GrowingAHead (shelleyk0503)



Category: Weak Hero (Webcomic)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Comedy, Eugenie Gale, Everyone is an idiot, F/M, Fem!Gray, Female Eugene Gale, Female Gray Yeon, Female Kingsley Kwan, Gender Changes, Genderbending, Genderbent Characters to be added, Slice of Life, Tags to be added, Union is a bit nicer, Warning for strong language, not a whole lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:40:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25529065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shelleyk0503/pseuds/GrowingAHead
Summary: Takes place some time after the Ganghak Arc.The fight on the rooftop leads to events that no-one could've predicted.Slice-of-life stories centering around the relationship between Wolf Keum and Gray Yeon.
Relationships: Wolf Keum/Gray Yeon
Comments: 87
Kudos: 221





	1. Have You Heard this One? A Wolf and a Mamba Walk into a...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Chapter Updated] This chapter has been updated after RavenCarver’s magnificent editing. Many thanks to RavenCarver for proofreading and for giving brilliant suggestions!
> 
> Except for the fact that Gray is female, the story is basically based on canon. Which means Wolf Keum doesn't pull punches when engaging Gray in a fight. And Gray can match him. But this is a warning in case this bothers anyone. Also, there's canon-typical strong language. 
> 
> Kingsley Kwan is also female. Her name stays the same. 
> 
> There will be more genderbent characters as chapters progress.

"Not today? ...A date. Ah, right."

Kingsley Kwan ended the brief call, letting out a small sigh.

This wasn't one of the official Union assemblies. For one thing, this was Yeo-Il High School student council room, not the Yeouinaru office. Donald Na wasn't even present. Jake Ji had happened to drop by at Yeo-Il to actually hand in some files that Kingsley had, without much hope, asked for. Since it wasn't often that the Union's second most powerful member was in such a generous state, Kingsley had seized this opportunity to contact all the other leaders of their respective Union schools for an impromptu meeting to take care of some much-delayed matters. 

But apparently it wasn't to be so perfect. 

"So Wolf Keum's out. Forrest Lee, can you deliver these files the next time you meet him?"

Kingsley shuffled the files in front of her, unaware that all the others were staring. A certain word from the call had caught their attention.

Jake Ji cheerfully spoke, "A date? Is our Wolfie pre-arranging his slaughters now?"

"No. Apparently, he’s with a girl."

The reason why Jimmy Bae and Forrest Lee remained quiet was because the sentence didn't register. Their brains had refused to accept what their ears had perceived in order to protect their sanity. It was a testament to the mental capacity of the Daehyeon leader that he still tried to make sense of it, albeit with a smile now a tad strained.

"Ah, well. We know Wolf has always been for equality even when it comes to-"

"I mean," Kingsley finally looked up and spoke, voice flat, "as in _girlfriend_."

She waved the file in her hand towards Forrest Lee in a manner that clearly meant, _'NOW, can we get back to the actual important matters?'_

She was alone in this opinion. Forrest Lee didn't even seem to see the files. He half rose as if being born aloft by some kind of slow combustion underneath him. 

"D-did Wolf Keum just say. He will be out. On a _date_ … with his... _GIRLFRIEND_?"

"That's what I-"

A sudden bout of laughter interrupted Kingsley. It started almost like a series of coughs until it rose into a deliberate, condescending crescendo, the kind characteristic of Jimmy Bae. 

"Ha! There's no way that fucker has a girlfriend! The bastard's pulling yer leg, Kingsley!"

"I doubt it," said Kingsley, looking slightly affronted that Jimmy Bae, of all people, would suggest that _anyone_ could pull _her_ leg. "I've seen them, after all."

Again, an invisible hand held a 'pause' button on the whole scene. Not even Jake Ji was exempt. Jimmy Bae had stiffened in mid-chuckle, his face resembling a goldfish that had jumped out of water into what was apparently Siberian winter, frozen in the air with its mouth agape. 

Jake Ji yet again proved his mettle as the second most powerful of the Union, recovering the fastest and shooting out adroit questions. 

"When? How?"

"This Wednesday. I saw them near Noryangjin at a bus stop. They had their backs to me but that purple hair is quite recognizable."

"That doesn't mean anything! The girl could've been-" Forrest Lee fumbled for his words. "-his... victim?"

Kingsley sighed and put down the folder, resigned that they were obviously stuck on this topic for the moment.

"There'd been a sudden shower that day. The girl's shirt was soaked and Wolf draped his school jacket over her. I don't think he'd do that to his... 'victims'."

Jimmy Bae and Forrest Lee stood frozen as the world did a pirouette. 

"And… and-" Forrest caught himself shamefully. The words _'And you did nothing?'_ had been about to tumble out of his mouth and even he had to acknowledge it was inappropriate. It was one thing to resent Kingsley for staying so tranquil when the world had not only been turned upside down but was doing a damn tap-dance on its head, it was another to hold her accountable.

A treacherous little voice in a corner of his mind told him that someone should've done something about this. Perhaps call the police. As far as Forrest Lee was concerned, some sort of criminal activity was involved in the process of Wolf Keum procuring a girlfriend. Hell, Wolf Keum being with a girlfriend likely WAS a crime.

"Maybe-" Forrest stopped again. He'd been about to suggest that perhaps Kingsley had been mistaken, but the world where Kingsley Kwan made mistakes was not a whole lot more reassuring than the one where Wolf Keum draped his school uniform over a rain-soaked girl. Okay, perhaps a smidgen more reassuring.

Forrest glanced at Jimmy Bae, looking for support. The face that greeted him shot down his already meager amount of hope into the negatives. Jimmy Bae looked like he wanted to punch the entire situation into orbit and was having difficulty grasping that that was not a possible option. 

"So." Jake Ji leaned forward. "About this unfortuna- _brave_ girl. What was she like? She a Ganghak student?"

"Like I said, they had their backs to me. And no uniform. Short, light-colored hair; that's about all I saw. After all, I wasn't trying to get a better look." 

"You have no romance in your soul, Kingsley." Jake Ji leaned back, pouting.

Kingsley shrugged, metaphorically shrugging off the topic in the same motion, sure that she'd indulged their foolishness long enough. She once more picked up the files and succeeded in pushing it into the hands of the currently soulless Hyeongshin leader. 

* * *

  
Usually, the Union members didn't fraternize. In fact, even during meetings, they tended to pretend that each other didn't exist. Chances were that once they affirmed the others’ existences, they'd be overcome with an urge to rectify that state via some well-aimed blows to the others’ faces. 

But desperate times call for desperate measures. The head delinquents found themselves gravitating dazedly - except for Jake Ji, who looked as if the latest volume of _Two Piece_ had been released two months early - to the shelter of a nearby cafe together. Perhaps their subconsciousness was seeking some sort of group therapy. Or in Jake Ji's case, a gossip club.

Five minutes later, they sat nursing their respective beverages. 

"Man, the Shuttle Patch has been talking about nothing else for the past week," Jake Ji exclaimed, scrolling down his phone as he slurped his Passion Fruit-Strawberry-Banana-Shake with whipped cream. "I really NEED Timmy back, otherwise I'm completely out of the loop. He'd be DEVASTATED that he's missing out on all this-" 

The 'analyst' of Daehyeo - or 'Big Data' as Timothy Park himself liked to be called - had been away from school for the past week on an extremely Spartan overseas exchange student program. His parents, worried about a considerable drop in his grade on the latest test (to which Dean accused Jake of transferring his idiocy to Timmy) had confiscated his smartphone during the trip. They supplied him with an ancient flip phone that barely allowed 30 seconds of overseas calls per day instead. 

"What the hell is a Shuttle Patch?" Jimmy Bae growled out as he aggressively sipped his Caffe Americano. He had actually wanted to try Summer-Mixed Berries-Pink-Jubilee-Surprise, but Forrest Lee had ordered Today's Single Origin and Jimmy had been inexplicably compelled to order something more sedate and caffeinated. Jake Ji had then given his lengthy order which included the damn gummy-bear addition and star-sprinkled whipped cream on top, much to Jimmy Bae's private rage. He didn’t know how, but somehow, this was all Wolf Keum's fault. 

"An online community for High School... stuff," Jake Ji answered, diplomatically scrolling past a post titled: _'So about Jimmy Bae's second DEFINITE loss to Big Ben'_. 

"Why would they be interested in Wolf Keum's…" Words such as 'girlfriend', 'love life', and 'relationship' went through Forrest Lee's brain, each leaving painful grooves in their wake. "…life?"

"Well the guy has his fans. You should see his issagram followers, although he hardly updates his page." Jake Ji finally settled on a page and held his phone up for the others to see. Despite themselves, Jimmy and Forrest craned their necks to get a look.

_\- Maybe it's a one-time-girl he's picked up at the club..._

_\- Club or not, he's going steady, I tell you. Too many corresponding witnesses._   
  
_\- What witnesses?!? We don't even have a description!!! Aside from short, light-colored hair. And skinny._

_\- Maybe he decided to turn over a new leaf after being beaten by the White Mamba?_

_-Re: above post. Tell that to three thugs who had their noses ground in last night at Guro. People should just stay away from that place after what happened to Chad Won..._

_\- Actual sighting: by the Noryangjin bus stop near the cram schools. The girl was wearing his uniform!_

"That at least confirms what Kingsley saw," Jake hummed, scrolling through the posts again. "If you think about it, it's not that surprising. Wolfie has that bad boy charm down pat. A guy like that taking his coat off for you? Hell, _I'_ _d_ fall for that."

"Ha! The bitch's probably some air-headed bimbo who only cares about looks no doubt," muttered Jimmy, oblivious to the fact that he was paying a backhanded compliment. 

"Or perhaps she's... too scared to say no?" Forrest Lee murmured uncertainly. The urge to report to the authorities hadn't yet dissipated. 

"However it is, nobody seems sure. There should be at least something about what school she's from... Hey, here's an interesting one." 

Jake held up his phone again for the others' scrutiny. 

_\- I think it's just a rumor. Like that ridiculous one where he's apparently now attending a cram school in Noryangjin._

_\- How did that one start, anyway?_

_\- Some wannabe loser there dying his head purple, I guess._

Jimmy Bae snorted. 

"Well this 'confirms' that anything these idiots are spouting is a load of fat bullshit." 

"This one, maybe it has something going for it." Forrest Lee, privately of the opinion that he was the sanest of the Union Heads (an opinion that wasn't completely unfounded) pointed to a series of posts.

_\- How do we know they’re a girl, even? Short, light-colored hair, everyone says, maybe just a real skinny guy. Wolf's picked up a new shuttle, that must be it._

_\- Is Wolf likely to take off his school jacket for a shuttle?_

_\- Maybe she/he was carrying it for him._

Jake pursed his lips as he read the skeptic posts. "I dunno. I trust Kingsley's judgement. If she says something looks like a duck, you bet it's a duck."

Jimmy and Forrest shared a look that said, _'Won't be cheated out of his entertainment, huh.'_ It lasted a microsecond before each tore their gaze away, the fact of having had a shared moment leaving a bad taste in their souls. 

Jake was still industriously browsing. 

"All these are a couple of days old though. The latest ones... ah, right. You need to be a Gold Member... Wait, Timmy made me a backdoor ID for this, for emergencies. Well, this IS an emergency," said Jake Ji the Remorseless. 

He tapped some code in and, settling on a page, licked cream off his upper lip like a satisfied predator after a successful hunt. The phone was held up again.

_\- It's an Eunjang girl!_

_\- The fuck you talking about? Eunjang is an all-BOYS school._

_\- Nonono, remember starting this year, they started accepting girls? Only they fucked up with the uniforms and girls are stuck with the same uniform as the boys._

_\- ... So that means it could easily just be an Eunjang shuttle guy._

_\- Alert, alert! I'm seeing them right now! They're right in front of me, near Yeouinaru! And they look... disheveled. Like they had a romp. If you know what I mean, heh heh._

_\- You're lying. Picture or nothing._

_\- Yo, I may be a nosy bastard with no life but I ain't suicidal._

_\- At least describe this 'girl'._

_\- I can only see their backs. She's skinny, about a head shorter than Wolf, got light grey hair that's cut short. She does look a bit boyish._

"The description is pretty consistent; they’re small with light grey hair cut short..." Jake Ji trailed off. 

The three looked at each other. Only, they were not. They found themselves looking at certain images simultaneously conjured up by their minds, each under different circumstances but each sharing a certain... distinct figure. 

For Jake Ji, it was a faraway sight observed from the top of a building. A bloodied, grey-haired figure rained down punches at the prone figure they were straddled upon. For Jimmy Bae, it was a small stick of a figure that avoided his punches by a hair’s breadth while wearing an expression that was serenity itself. For Forrest Lee it wasn't really an image, but rather a secondhand account from Grape about Eunjang's White Mamba – a deceptive demon with a merciless penchant for makeshift weaponry. 

Then, they really looked at each other. They waited for any one of them to refute the ridiculous notion that they all shared, to laugh it off.

No one made a move. 

Sometimes, stars do line up just so. Sometimes, you are the lucky 100th guest. Sometimes, you are at just the right place at the right time. 

The harbinger of this phenomenon arrived in the form of a nervous cafe staff who wrung his hands anxiously as he spoke to the three. "I'm so sorry, we're... about to close." 

The three stared. Jake, on cue, took a deliberately long sip from his large straw, letting go with a loud pop. "But we just got here," he pointed out. 

"Yes, sorry about that. I didn't notice the time and forgot to put up a sign..." 

The three looked around. The cafe HAD become strangely empty. In fact, they were the only remaining customers. Jake raised an eyebrow. 

"It's, like, 3:25pm. It's Saturday. Bit of a weird time to close."

"It's the... afternoon off."  
  
At that moment, the man's gaze flickered past them. All three could see the anxiety morphing into near panic. They followed the man's line of sight, turning to look through the large window. There were two figures outside crossing the road towards the café; too far for their faces to be recognizable.

But their hair colors told them all they needed: purple and grey. 

Jake was the first to recover. He turned back to the staff.

"Tell you what, we'll be reeeeeal quiet, you won't even know we're here."

"I'm afraid I must insist, it really is for your own-"

A certain look dawned on Jake Ji's face that made the staff freeze with fear. Forrest Lee went rigid. Jimmy Bae (although he would never admit it, even on his deathbed) felt a chill that made his spine feel brittle. 

"In fact," said Jake with a sudden burst of sunshine that defrosted the atmosphere, "we'll move ourselves behind that half-wall, so that we'll be invisible."

Before the staff could react, Jake had already moved away. He wasn’t visibly hurrying but somehow smoothly traversed to the corner seat just behind a half-wall. He even arranged some potted plants and sofa chairs to serve as extra covers. Recovering much earlier than the luckless staff, Forrest and Jimmy grudgingly made their way towards where Jake was situated.

The man only came to his senses when the cafe doorbell announced the arrival of the customers he'd been dreading. Having no choice, he lurched his way back to the counter.

Peering through the potted plants, the three saw the two figures approach the counter. The staff vibrated a little as he murmured a stiff welcome, basking in cold sweat. But since this was a usual reaction to anybody near the vicinity of Wolf Keum (for the purple-haired figure that just entered was indeed Wolf himself) for anyone who was still miraculously standing, it wasn't likely to hint that anything was amiss. Besides, neither of the two figures really looked at the poor man. This was obviously a set routine since they wordlessly handed over their cards and the staff punched in an order without further prompting.

The spying delinquents ducked as the two figures turned and approached the largest table at the center of the cafe. By the time they were cautiously peering over the sofa edges, the two had made themselves comfortable, still without speaking a word. Jake looked at the other two and nodded. The gesture was returned by Forrest and greeted with a grimace by Jimmy. There was no doubt; the figure sitting opposite Wolf Keum really was Eunjang's White Mamba.

Now that it had been established that the two weren't immediately trying to kill each other for some mysterious reason, the three Union members took in other details. The non-suicidal, nosy bastard of a poster had been right; both Wolf and the Mamba looked... messy. But not for the reasons the said poster had surmised. The three were something like connoisseurs when it came to such messiness. 

Wolf Keum's face and hands were specked with dirt and blood. His clothes seemed clean at first glance, but under the red jacket, the edges of a torn and also bloodied shirt could be seen. 

The grey-haired girl had significantly less blood splattered over her person, but no less dirt. Her hair was sticking up all over the place and her forehead was reddened, likely from a hard impact. She also sported a scarlet-purplish bruise on her neck. When she put her hands upon the table, the delinquents could see that the backs of them were scuffed. 

They had been in a fight. 

Her hands weren't the only things that the girl had laid upon the table. A box was set down without fanfare. She started laying out various items from the box with practiced ease: a bottle of alcohol, cotton pads, sanitary wipes, a medicinal-looking tube of some kind, and some band-aids. For his part, Wolf took off his glasses. 

Wolf Keum and the White Mamba each took some wipes and wordlessly started cleaning themselves, but even Jake Ji lifted an eyebrow when the White Mamba poured alcohol over a cotton ball and raised it towards Wolf. The latter had leaned over in full expectation of this action. 

The girl's priority was obviously sterilization over gentleness. Forrest actually winced when the alcohol-soaked cotton got dragged across a large gash over Wolf's cheek with force that seemed more suitable for removing a stubborn stain on a shirt. However, the Crazy Bastard (as Forrest called the Ganghak leader in his head) didn't seem to mind. 

"Ever think about employing a technique called 'dodging'?” the White Mamba said as she plastered a large band-aid over the cleaned wound. Wolf gave a small huff, almost sounding like a laugh. 

"I'll consider it if that's ever needed,"

"... Maybe like when someone's trying to smash your head in with a pavement tile?"

Wolf shrugged. "I blocked it."

"... And a brick..."

"That one, you know I blocked with a trashcan lid. You don't have a monopoly on tools, Mamba."

"... And the chicken wire..."

"Well, it didn't do much."

The girl sighed as Wolf smirked and tapped the bandaged cheek. Giving up on the line of conversation, she took up another band-aid. 

Forrest glanced at a movement beside him. He was horrified to see Jake lift his phone, making a gesture with his forefinger. Forrest shook his head vehemently. _'No texting. The sound-'_

Jake pursed his lip as if to say, _'You think I'm dumb?'_ and scribbled on the screen with his finger. He then held it up. It was a memo app. Jake had written two words, circling them and, for some reason, had put star stickers around, _'Sparring Partners'._

Jimmy caught himself in mid-snort. Forrest nodded glumly. It made a sort of skewed sense. So, it HAD been Wolf Keum's little joke when he'd mentioned a date. Jake Ji had been right in a way; it really was a pre-arranged fight. Although, what twisted turn of events had brought the two together under such circumstance Forrest couldn't even guess.

And even when they'd figured out their 'relationship', it still felt wrong to see Wolf casually patting down the girl's hair into some semblance of tidiness. The action itself was about as gentle as the girl's previous ministrations and the girl shook the hand off in annoyance. Wolf merely shifted his hand to hers and the Mamba actually let her hand be taken. 

"... So, the call from before," the girl spoke, looking at Wolf's large, calloused hand roughly clean the scratches on the back of her own with the alcohol-soaked cotton. "The... date."

"Yeah?"

"Weren't you... supposed to go to it?"

Wolf Keum looked up. The three behind the sofa also perked up anew. 

The infamous delinquent frowned. He touched the girl's right temple, causing her to mirror his expression. 

"Was sure you avoided that hit..."

"I _did._ "

"Then why are you suddenly talking stupid?"

The girl seemed offended and appeared to hesitate. Wolf's frown deepened. She sighed again. 

"You said, 'girlfriend'."

"Well? You're a girl, aren't you?"

Behind the cover of the sofa, both Jimmy Bae and Forrest Lee dearly wanted, no, _needed_ , to **_punch_** Wolf Keum. It looked like the White Mamba shared their desire. 

"I meant-" The girl closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead with her free hand, apparently trying to push down murderous urges. 

"Such a... word... could give a certain... impression."

"... Such as?"

The girl glared at the other. 

" _That_ sort of 'friends' are a little... different… than what we are. Don't you think?"

"How different, exactly?"

“The things they do together… would be different.”

“Like what?”

The three delinquents could practically see certain words being chewed on behind the Mamba's tightly sealed lips. Each of them was bitterly swallowed in the face of Wolf's blank stare, whose thumb was tapping along her knuckles in an idle rhythm. Jimmy and Forrest found themselves tensing at that little movement. It seemed like an invitation to an attack. 

Apparently, the Mamba decided it wasn't worth it. She sighed yet again and smoothly slid her hand out of Wolf's grasp. 

"Never mind."

She took up a medicine tube, squeezing its contents on her fingers. She reached for her bruised neck- 

-and was stopped by Wolf's hand wrapping around her wrist. 

Ignoring her startled glance, Wolf Keum pulled her hand down while rising from his seat and leaned towards her. 

Time seemed to slow. 

Perhaps it was because Wolf himself moved slowly. The three delinquents hadn't known that Wolf was even capable of such an action. He had always given off an aura of tightly coiled violence like a feral animal, ready to lunge at slightest provocation.

But now, he moved almost carefully, as if the air itself was something fragile. There was something unreal about the whole scene - dreamlike. 

Maybe that was why the Mamba stayed still, her slightly widened eyes watching the approaching beast. 

He clamped his mouth on her neck, just over the reddened skin. 

Jimmy and Forrest rammed their fist into their mouths. They were about one third of a second too late to stop a whisper of high-pitched squeals. Even Jake, who had covered his own lips with both hands, had to stifle a choked rumble down his throat. Fortunately, all this was drowned out by the staff at the counter letting out an unbidden gasp, followed by the clang of a metal mixer dropping. 

All that might as well have not happened. The purple-haired delinquent only angled his head to better suck at the girl's neck. Teeth were probably involved, judging from the way the girl tensed and her torso lifting slightly. 

There was plenty of time for the Mamba to do something about this. In fact, Forrest was silently urging her to do so. Punch Wolf in the side of his head. Kick him from under the table. Smash the bastard's glasses and ram a shard into his jugular. 

The White Mamba's hands upon the table clenched once, twice, and unfolded. Fingers shivered a little as they pressed themselves onto the table. 

Wolf Keum let go. 

He sat back, idly reaching for his glasses and wiping them clean before putting them on. 

"That's one thing I’d do differently," he said.

The girl lifted her hand toward her neck, thought better of it, then dropped it back onto the table. 

"Ah," she uttered, way too calm for someone who had just been mauled. But the tint of red that spread up the whole of her neck couldn't be blamed on the bruise. The redness reached all the way up to the tips of her ears, for one thing. 

"Ah," she repeated. The medicine tube rolled absently between her hands. "So," she spoke without looking up, "day one?"

"The hell?"

Wolf Keum flicked up his chin, tossing an insolent laugh up in the air. 

"It's been ‘day one’ the moment you stared at me across the street with those snake eyes."

The White Mamba lifted her head and contemplated the other's grinning face. Purple eyes narrowed.

"Crazy bastard."

* * *

"It's never gonna work," Jimmy Bae declared as they got out of the cafe, throwing up his hands for emphasis. 

The White Mamba and Wolf Keum hadn't stayed long after that. After some application of antiseptic cream and some more band-aids, they'd left with their orders. The three had stayed for five more minutes to make sure they wouldn't run into the two and also to digest what had just transpired. 

Forrest nodded firmly in agreement. "Mamba's got to come to her senses sometime."

"It's probably all those fights. They both got punch-drunk or somethin', the whole thing's-" Jimmy Bae waved his arms furiously to express the general insanity of it all, almost knocking down Forrest in the process. Narrowly avoiding this outcome, Forrest glowered at the Yoosun leader, who took no notice. Forrest cleared his throat.

"In any case, there's no way that bastard Wolf can keep this going."

"Oh, I don't know." 

Jake Ji, who had been walking a little behind them, smiled and folded his hands behind his head. 

"Wolves mate for life, they say."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow, the female version of Kingsley Kwan became even more sassy.


	2. How Did it Start?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of how the two got together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Chapter Updated] Again, many thanks to RavenCarver for the excellent editing and great suggestions!
> 
> There may be narratives that go back and forth in time. This one is mainly set during the Ganghak arc.
> 
> Also, Eugene Gale here is Eugenie Gale. Although she is usually called Eugene.

_How did it start?_

Indeed, how _did_ the story of Wolf and the Mamba begin for it to develop like this? It was a question that Gray's Eunjang Family would mull over down the line. For certain members of the Union, it proved to be a source of amusement.

* * *

_“Are you serious?”_

_“YES! I’m telling you, Jake Ji and_ Donald Na _himself were both talking about it-”_

* * *

For others, it would be a disaster that they just weren't mentally equipped to cope with.

* * *

_Grape: They WHAT?!?_

_Robin Ha: Yeah, I was fucking shocked too..._

_Grape: NONONO STOP. I didn't hear that! Okay?!? It didn't happen! Okay? I don't know anything!_

* * *

For a certain individual, the event in question would become a bane of his very existence…

* * *

_"I missed it! HOW could I have MISSED it? I no longer have a PURPOSE! I am a SHAME to the title BIG DATA-!"_

* * *

For the rest, it became a nightmare that haunted a considerable part of their high school lives.

* * *

_"We should have stopped this GoGo, I should have stopped this. There should've been something we could've done to stop this-"_

* * *

Eunjang deciding to accept both sexes may have played a part.

It'd been part of school admin's campaign to expand their student pool and, quite frankly, the whole thing was at rock (or mud) bottom. Momentum and moral were dissipating every year. Of course, the status of the school being what it was, even the admin sported no real expectation of it.

Which might have been one of the reasons why the actual preparations for welcoming the newly-accepted gender had been somewhat lacking.

(Even now, certain bathrooms at Eunjang were grounds for high-level games of chicken. Apart from some bold exceptions, many boys who had to use the conflicting bathrooms now just opted for the stalls to avoid the awkwardness. Signs were promptly put up on the doors of the said stalls: _'AIM, you bloody *f &45d#4%2@_'. The cleaning staff did their best to cross out the expletives whenever possible.)

Many fingers were pointed, none found the mark. Well, strictly speaking, this was untrue - those fingers just curved back to their owners. This was not an acceptable outcome, so just who was responsible for completely forgetting to arrange Eunjang's female school uniform would remain a mystery.

When this had been brought to attention, all the orders had been already submitted and the company for the uniforms put its foot down. (Later, some students would grumble that this would NEVER have happened under the jurisdiction of the Union.)

"Maybe it's all for the greater good," the principal had stated with desperate hope. "Sort of easing in the change. The girls would just blend in."

He had underestimated two things. One: The sheer gender-indicative power of school uniforms. Two: How uncaring the majority of Eunjang's freshmen would be to school admin's phone messages, introductory leaflets, and school banners which all proclaimed (in a rather badly-worded sentence) _'Eunjang welcomes its First First-Year Female Students.'_

The converging point of these forces was Colton Choi. 

There really was no excuse. Colton Choi wasn't even a 'big' bully. He happened to be born with a few extra pounds compared to his average peers and he took this as a right to throw that extra weight around. He didn't even have a decency to camouflage this aspect and paraded it smugly on his face. If Wolf Keum (somehow) had bothered to notice the likes of Colton Choi, he'd have punched that face on general principle. Even the likes of Grape would then have to admit that what Wolf would’ve done was a public service.

It could be said that Colton had it coming. 

When he picked out a short, pale-looking 'prey' and decided that it was his duty to confirm his classmate's masculinity, well, that might as well have been the universe secretly cracking its knuckles and flicking its cosmic finger on the back of his head while chuckling, ‘Oh yes, you’re gonna get it now. Hur, hur.’

So, Colton had grabbed the student by the front of their shirt and also by... a whole lot more inappropriate place. He’d been about to shout (for him) a witty remark. _'Oh, he's packin', a freakin' anaconda!'_

The words died in his mouth when his lowly placed hand felt considerably less flesh than he'd expected. 

His confusion increased as the hand that held the shirt front felt considerably more and softer flesh than anticipated. 

The realization hit him a lot later than the elbow to this throat. 

* * *

As the name ‘White Mamba’ began to make itself known, there was one detail about the White Mamba that failed to make an appearance. 

It was very much in character for Colton Choi and those he mingled with to not advertise the fact that they were completely trashed by one girl. 

As for Yoosun and Hyeongshin, the gender-assigning power of school uniforms had been in full effect. Later, Alex, Ben, and Gerard did wonder whether they should've made the effort to correct everyone’s misunderstanding, but it seemed a bit out of place to announce it prior to or in the middle of a fight, or even afterwards. 

Rowan and Eugene (nee Eugenie, but nowadays, that name was only used on official documents) _had_ tried. However, while posting about ranked delinquents on Shuttle Patch was one thing, posting about their friend was another. It felt like an invasion of privacy. In any case, a few tentative anonymous posts suggesting that perhaps, you know, the White Mamba could be a girl since girls now attended Eunjang, was shot down quickly with jeers and accusations of 'Just trying get attention.'

(The only exception was Timothy Park who had actually considered the possibility, but even he couldn't be sure until he had gathered all the intel for presentation to Jake Ji.)

In everyone's defense, when you're facing a mamba, its gender is the last thing on your mind. The important thing is that it exists. 

Even the without everyone realizing the correct gender, for someone as outrageous and new as the White Mamba, it was only natural that rumors started to spread like a dangerous wildfire alert. One could say THAT was how it started. 

* * *

But if one were, for some reason, telling a story about the topic and had the disposition of the pretentiously philosophical, one could state that it REALLY started when Wolf Keum first sniffed snow on a warm spring evening. 

Some context might be needed. 

Everyone has an ideal. Nothing so broad and abstract like an ideal world, an ideal family, or even an ideal other. 

No, it's an ideal of something extremely specific and personal. 

For Alex Go, it was his mom's vegetable soup on one cold winter morning during his first middle school year. There had been a heavy snowfall and he'd been waiting with bated breath for the message declaring school was closed. When the admin had finally made up their mind, Alex remembers bursting out of his room to share the news, only to find that his mom had already prepared a hot breakfast just in case the school proved stubborn. Except, Alex's mom couldn't remember that she'd ever made such a soup. She tried to make that soup various times for her son's sake and while his mom's soups were always good, they were never as perfect as those steaming spoonfuls on that grey morning. 

For Donald Na, it was the taste of bread on the other side of a shop window when he was a child. He used to know the very hour when the freshly baked bread would be let out to bask under the reflected light from the glass and the hungry gaze of the customers. He'd stare through the window and tasted it with his eyes. The sweet, warm fluffiness, the molten glaze that'd coat his lips, errant pieces of currants that'd stick on the teeth. It was like eating the sun. Afterwards, his hollow stomach would twist into a knot, cruelly reminding him of reality. Even when he'd gained entrance via a well-thrown brick one night and given his greedy stomach its due, it wasn't the same as his mind had tasted it. It never was, even when he had so much money that he could purchase everything in the shop and maybe the shop itself if he wanted to. Nothing tasted as good as that particular bread had in his head. 

For Kingsley Kwan, it was the perfect scheduling journal. This ideal led her on endless quests through mazes of stationary shelves and the winding web of smartphone apps. But, they were woefully inadequate compared to the visual representation inside her organized mind. In spite of her efforts, this holy grail of a journal continued to evade her.

(Eventually, it'd occur to her that she must supply her own demand. This would lead her to develop her own scheduling journal and an app counterpart upon graduating the university. Eventually a rival firm under the guide of Phillip Kim - who'd found his niche as an underground loan shark by then - would seek to steal her work of a lifetime. Kingsley would find unlikely allies in the form of Eugenie Gale, who worked as a paralegal in a patent lawyer firm, and an old acquaintance, namely one Myles Joo. Turns out he had turned over a new leaf as a barista at a café that Kingsley was fond of frequenting and had never quite gotten over his high school crush on Kingsley. There'd be back-alley fights, attempted kidnappings, industrial espionage and much financial fiasco, culminating into a gripping courtroom drama in which- but, alas, this isn't THAT story.)

For Wolf Keum, it was snow. 

It was different from the frozen liquid that gathered within clouds at sufficiently low atmospheric temperature, which would then descend after gaining enough weight. Rather, it was a quiet _force_. Something pure and clean and sharp that cut through the messiness of... well, everything. A whiff of it would clear the red haze that dominated Wolf's world like a cold knife through a slab of meat. 

Psychologists would have something to comment on that. Although, any psychologist facing Wolf Keum would soon need a very physical therapy before they even got to question him about his childhood. 

Had Jake Ji known about it, he'd likely say that it was a remnant from Wolf's past life. Apparently, somewhere within Wolf's adrenaline-fueled soul was a howling creature that longed for the moon-tinted whiteness of Arctic Tundra _. ‘He should seek a professional hypnotist,’_ Jake Ji would say, _‘to get in touch with his inner wolf, so to speak._ ’ Which would likely lead Wolf Keum seriously considering breaking the Union's rules. 

Wolf Keum, not being one for introspection, wasn't actually _aware_ of all this. All he knew was that snow in reality for some reason always disappointed him. ‘Snow’ didn't do justice to the phenomenon anyway in the city. Not when a word such as 'muck' was so readily available.

All this was quite absent from his mind when he was waiting at Noryangjin with his minions. He had been only aware of the red haze bubbling like lava underneath an unstable volcano as he relished the thought of raining down his wrath upon the thick-skinned thief. 

He absently took the cigarette out of his mouth and inhaled the stale city-night air. 

That was when it came - crystalline and piercing. 

_Snow._ Wolf Keum would have said it out loud if not for him catching sight of a uniform across the street. 

"Hey... that guy across the road..."

Everything was muffled. He was looking at the world through frosted glass, except the center was broken and there was a distinct pale figure who looked almost luminous on the other side **.**

"He's from Eunjang, right?"

Then the figure across the street turned and looked at him straight in the eyes.

"...The one we saw earlier?"

"The Whi-"

"Shut the fuck up for a sec."

The unflinching gaze held his. Wolf Keum breathed in.

It felt like he'd swallowed frozen shards of peppermint, the feeling spreading throughout his insides in an icy bloom. 

It stayed even when the figure got into the bus and glanced at him one last time. That gaze was then turned away completely, the scent of snow fading as the bus drove away. 

Wolf let out a laughing sigh, the taste of shimmering cold coating his tongue. 

"He's the White Mamba," one of the lackeys nervously supplied.

“…The White Mamba,” Wolf repeated. He tasted the words on his tongue, rolled them around a bit to get used to the feeling.

People have different ways of dealing with their ideals. 

It was natural for Wolf to fight it. 

After all, fighting was one of the few things he liked. 

* * *

The disappointment had been massive. 

There was no trace of that clear scent of snow in the frail, trembling figure that was brought before him. Only the all-too familiar tang of fear that was oh-so-boring met his challenge. 

Disappointment led to rage. 

By the time the so-called Mamba had been laid down like a bloody, deflated sack, the rage had simmered down to contempt. 

Wolf idly sucked on a cigarette to drown it out. 

"Don't make me throw you off the rooftop," he murmured as he turned away from the recumbent figure, as if they didn't deserve any more attention. 

"Maybe strip him and hang him from the roof, skin the snake, like.” A quip from Jared Sun suddenly seemed to rekindle the Elbow Guy's fire. With frankly admirable spirit, the guy began to crawl towards them, practically dragging the Eunjang vermin who was ineffectively trying to hold him down. 

"You BASTARDS! How could you- she's a GIRL!"

He seemed a little surprised by the simultaneous whipping of heads toward him, including the one crowned with purple hair. 

Wolf Keum blinked at him, then glanced behind him at the prone figure, then stared back towards the Elbow Guy. "The fuck? You pullin' my leg? As flat as a board!"

"Tha-that's just the way she's built!" shouted the Elbow Guy, a blush flooding his face. "She's-" 

At that moment, something draped over Wolf Keum's shoulder. He felt a slight, swelling softness press into his back. 

_'Okay, so the Elbow Guy isn't kidding-'_

The barely formed thought evaporated as his arms were yanked back. His cigarette flew from his mouth. 

* * *

The whole revelation really was a non-issue because it became apparent that he was fighting a maddened beast, breasts or no breasts. 

It was also becoming increasingly apparent to Wolf that he was also fighting himself. 

A part of him found itself turning calmer and more thoughtful as it basked in the wintry chill that pervaded the whole air. Against it, the red haze was struggling to keep Wolf outraged. 

The internal war was only stopped when the greatest pain he'd ever experienced crunched through his foot. 

Then there was just a hazy blankness, filled only with the image of the Mamba striking.

* * *

He felt curiously peaceful lying there all alone on the rooftop. His eyes stared at nothing, but his mind was fixated on the last image of the White Mamba that was seared into his memory. 

"...What a funny bastard..."

* * *

It was after the battle with Wolf Keum that the fact the White Mamba was female began to be known. 

It was largely due to Big Data who had quite a lot of pull within the Shuttle Patch. As for Timothy Park himself, he'd had the rare pleasure of seeing genuine shock on Jake Ji's face as he announced the fact he'd worked hard to confirm. (A while later, the tables would turn tenfold as Jake Ji gleefully relayed the news of Wolf and the Mamba upon Timothy's return.)

It was also partly due to Wolf Keum himself. He didn't talk much about the fight, but if the topic was ever brought up, he never hid the fact that it was a girl who defeated him.

* * *

_"You're acting pretty cocky, looking down on Yoosun when some no-name guy beat you to a pulp, huh, Wolf?"_

_"_ _It was a girl."_

_"...What?"_

_"The Mamba's not a guy, she's a girl."_

_Jimmy Bae had been so stunned that he'd forgotten to be insulted when Wolf walked away from him without a second glance._

* * *

All that was lost on Wolf Keum, whose days have grown increasingly more frustrating ever since that fight. 

Sure, there were plenty to be angry about: that damn bitch Jared Sun (at least he was out of the picture for good), then Donald FUCKING Na and his FUCKING surprise visit. Even Wolf Keum himself wasn’t exempt; being played by the likes of Jared Sun, however briefly… he couldn’t name the feeling, but he sure as hell disliked it. The sticking point was that there was nothing to be done about it, which led him to his current mood.

It wasn't the urge for violence that he was used to, it was more like restlessness. Only, it didn't know where it should be directed. 

Funnily enough, he wasn't angry at the Mamba. Among the people that were involved in the whole fucking event, she was probably the only one who wasn't the subject of his rage. 

Which was not to say that she didn't occupy his head. 

There was a lot to do. Beat Jared Sun within an inch of his life, recover the money and the data, do his part, per FUCKING Donald Na, in the damn Union business, yet all that didn't ease his restlessness. They only increased his annoyance. 

His lackeys were getting nervous. They were vaguely aware that something was boiling underneath the Ganghak leader, yet outwardly, a heavy quietude seemed to have wrapped around him. This wasn't Wolf Keum they knew. 

"I’m telling you, we should do something about that damn snake bitch."

One of his less-interesting minions spoke to his orange-haired colleague one day, the latter being something like Wolf's right-hand man mainly because Wolf never said he wasn't. He showed that he'd earned the position (for the given value of ‘earned’) by shooting the mouthy moron a warning look. 

"What, when Wolf hasn't given us any orders?" he scoffed.

"It ain't like he's given us any orders for the past few days. He hardly _says_ anything. Between you and me, maybe Wolf's not all he's cut out to be. I mean, you saw the skinny bitch."

"You didn't see her fight. And _you_ were knocked unconscious by Ben Park."

"That was BEN PARK. And he caught me by surprise! We can't let some Eunjang bitch walk all over our reputation! Perhaps if a handful of us go to Eunjang to pay her a visit..."

"Visit?"

To orange-head's considerable satisfaction, the yapping idiot froze and didn't dare turn around until Wolf Keum, who'd just entered the room, moved within his line of sight and sat down on the sofa. Wolf didn't speak further. The continued silence bore into the lackey like a spinning drill he’d foolishly decided walk into. 

"I mean... the... White Mamba bitch... w-we can't just..." 

Wolf Keum didn't twitch a muscle. Even orange-hair leaned against a wall and folded his arms. He figured that if either Wolf or the Mamba happened to this idiot, he fully deserved it. 

"I thought... um, some of us... go and... see her..."

Wolf blinked. He'd been sitting like a statue until then and that minuscule action felt _loud_ , alarming the others. 

" _See her?_ " 

"Well, yeah... Just to teach that-"

Wolf suddenly rose. The lackey actually crashed into the edge of the desk behind him while scrambling to get away. The orange-haired delinquent regarded his boss fearfully. Even from his angle, he could tell that Wolf wasn't looking at anything in this room. 

" _See her_ -" 

Wolf turned and grabbed the door handle. Too preoccupied to turn the handle, he tore the knob out instead. Growling, he tossed it aside and kicked. 

The two watched the speedily disappearing back of their boss over the fallen door. 

"Um, what was that about?"

"…I don't think I want to know right now."

* * *

Wolf didn't so much park his bike as he abandoned it at a corner alley in Noryangjin. It was getting dark. Cram schools, as far as he was concerned, were foreign places, but he was vaguely aware that they spat out zombified students at around this time of the day. True to this, crowds of students in various uniforms were filling the streets. Some recognized Wolf and, survival instincts shoving aside curiosity, frantically got to the other side of the street as he rushed past. Even those who didn't know Wolf got out of the way because it was clear from the way he ran that those who didn't do so _willingly_ would be _gotten_ out of the way, and probably not in one piece. 

He got to the place where he'd last sighted (read: sniffed) his target. He looked around and grabbed a random student who'd just stepped outside a building. 

"White Mamba," he snarled. The unfortunate Yoosun student stared at the bloodshot eyes behind the glasses. 

Sometimes, there's nothing like the promise of imminent death that galvanizes the brain. Realizing that the next few seconds were crucial to its continued existence, the brain worked furiously underneath the seaweed-hair. Shutting down all unnecessary responses such as questioning or whimpering, it harnessed all its power of perception, and rose to the occasion magnificently. 

The Yoosun student wordlessly pointed towards Hero Cram School's front door, from which a figure had emerged. 

Lamplight settled in a halo upon the pale head. 

The Yoosun student flailed to keep from falling headfirst onto the concrete pavement as he found himself suddenly released.

Wolf Keum caught the lean wrist. 

Violet eyes turned to him, widening in surprise before recognition set in. 

The chill of snow rammed into Wolf. 

He breathed out hoarsely, not due to the effort of running, but due to the exhilarating cold burning straight through his soul. 

"Gotcha," he panted, "Mamba." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alex's memory is actually mine. Like Alex, I told my mom several times and her reply was: "I cannot have been that domestic."


	3. This is going to take some getting used to - Pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Wolf shoved himself into Gray's life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Chapter Updated] Once again, many thanks to RavenCarver for the excellent editing and awesome suggestions!

"Fuck."

After the brief commentary, Wolf Keum took a sip from his mug. He carelessly put it down and the clatter made both Rowan and Eugene flinch. Gray stayed motionless, her drink untouched, her glare never leaving the figure sitting opposite. 

Wolf glanced at Eugene and she'd have cowered if her body didn't automatically freeze. Wolf didn't seem to take notice as he drawled, "So you're a girl, too?"

Then he looked suspiciously at Rowan which caused the latter to try his damnedest to appear masculine. It dawned on the red-head that this was technically impossible without some serious breach of public decency so he opted for verbal confirmation.

"No. I'm. That is. Um. A guy. Me."

...His tongue wasn't quite up to the task, though.

While Rowan's brain rained a barrage of metaphorical kicks in his head, Wolf had turned back to the female population at the table, cocking his head in a questioning manner. Gray chose that moment to reach for her own cup, closing her eyes as she took a long sip, breaking eye contact condescendingly. Eugene spoke up in a desperate attempt to prevent a possible bloodbath.

"Er, our school had a _problem_ with first year uniforms. So, um, there's no girl uniform. At least for this year."

"Huh." Wolf snorted. "Eunjang really is a shithole."

Since that was more of a description than an insult, the three Eunjang students replied with silence.

Eugene fidgeted with her latte before quickly putting both of her hands on the table, lest the sound of her trembling fingers knocking against the cup somehow provoked the wild animal sitting before her. Granted, said wild animal was the one who'd just bought them their drinks, but this was _Wolf Keum_.

The whole thing was just. _Surreal_. It'd earn the two gold Shuttle Patch members lasting fame if they posted the incident. But they wouldn't, half out of respect for their friend's privacy and half out of self-preservation. It’s not like they thought anyone would believe them anyway. Hell, _they_ couldn't believe it, and they were experiencing it right now.

Rowan and Eugene had been just walking out of Hero Cram School when they came upon the sight. It took a while for them to register that it really was Wolf Keum. In front of them. Holding their FRIEND.

Eugene had been fumbling for her phone to call for backup and Rowan had been about to deliver his elbow - _its effect or non-effect be damned this was his FRIEND_ \- when Wolf Keum noticed their presence and spoke quite casually, "I suppose Four-Eyes and Elbow Man might as well come."

A defiant part inside Eugene had quipped that 'Four-Eyes' applied to Wolf himself. But even if it was uttered only in her head, it was uttered _quietly_.

At first, Wolf obviously had other ideas as to where they could go because he'd started with, "There's a club that-" Cutting himself off abruptly, he had appraised the three of them and apparently switched some mental gear. Instead, he’d asked, “Any fucking cafe nearby?"

And here they were. Eugene couldn't even remember ordering. Perhaps Wolf had just randomly picked the drinks since he was buying. Eugene and Rowan were both surprised at Gray’s decision to come. Perhaps she was just as curious as themselves, minus the fear. Eugene snuck a glimpse at Gray. You had to give it to the Yeongdeungpo's fifth rank; to be so laid-back when a pair of ice daggers were directed at him was no small feat.

"About the bag thing."

It came out of the blue and for a moment, neither Eugene nor Rowan understood. Wolf took another sip and laid the mug back down.

“That was a mistake on my part.” 

Unconcerned about the pair of gaping mouths, Wolf Keum continued, "Got played by a fucker right under my nose. So yeah. Apparently, I beat you for nothing."

He sounded like he was more annoyed by the fact that he was led to beating them unnecessarily than anything else.

"And..." Wolf scratched his head, muttering almost to himself, "What else?"

"Perhaps a proper apology?"

Eugene and Rowan stiffened. Those were the first words Gray had spoken since Wolf had happened upon them tonight.

Wolf blinked. He stared as Gray lightly gestured to the two on either side of her.

He tilted his head again.

"I guess."

He wasn't embarrassed, Eugene noted. It was more like the idea had never occurred and he was considering the sheer novelty of it. Wolf folded his arms and leaned back.

"Sorry, my bad."

Rowan and Eugene didn’t answer because they had trouble accepting that those words had actually come out from Wolf Keum's mouth. His attitude didn't help; it seemed more fitting for someone _receiving_ an apology rather than offering one.

"Since you _obviously_ haven’t come here to _apologize_ -"

Eugene winced at her friend's sarcastic emphasis but either it passed right over the one it was intended for or Wolf didn't care.

"-why are you here? Do you want a rematch?"

Whatever the Eunjang Trio had expected from Gray's challenge, the other's reaction wasn't it.

Wolf beamed. Actually, the word didn't do the sight justice.

"Hah, sure! That'd be great!" Wolf spoke with uninhibited delight. The glasses did nothing to block the force of the sudden, full smile.

Eugene couldn't help being reminded of a time she'd visited her aunt's veterinary clinic when she was a wee child. A Doberman had dominated the reception area. For seven-year-old Eugenie, it might have as well have been a confrontation with a real-life Cerberus. Then a woman, smaller than the Doberman whose leash she held, had said goodbye to Eugene's aunt and had crooned the magic words, _'Now that that's done, let's go out for a walkie, okay?'_ The Hellhound had transformed into a puppy. The stoic, pointed visage had transformed into excited canine mirth with a tail wagging furiously to match.

Eugene tried to mentally slap the word _'adorable'_ out of her head. That word had no right to be associated with the monster sitting across her. _'Goodness, were you always this shallow, Eugene Gale? Remember how this psychopath beat you, how he pummeled ROWAN. How he hurt GRAY.'_

She surreptitiously looked over towards Rowan. Her guilt was somewhat assuaged. If someone had taken a picture of Rowan right now, it'd likely show his unhinged soul floating above his body like some abysmal Photoshop job.

"...But not right now," said Wolf, his mood suddenly dampening. "It's dark, so I wouldn't be able to see you well. Then what's the point?"

There was something odd about the sentence, but if Gray noticed it as well, she didn't bother to address it. She folded her arms, mirroring the other.

"So why are you here?"

"I just told you. I wanted to see you," Wolf spoke as if he couldn't make it more obvious, and was confused as to why the other wasn't getting it. The way Wolf wore confusion was unfairly appealing, causing Eugene to metaphorically slap her other cheek and Rowan's soul to once more lose its precarious hold. Gray remained unmoved. Her arctic eyes betrayed nothing.

"Well, you've seen me. And I've just wasted half an hour. That's it, then."

Gray got up and turned. A none-too-gentle grip on her hand stopped her from leaving. Eugene and Rowan blanched. It hadn't been that long since she'd been out of the hospital and her hands were still-!

To their surprise, Wolf Keum, who had also risen, loosened his grip.

"The fuck happened to your hand?"

Wolf lightly cradled Gray's hand, a hand that was much smaller than his and would be swallowed completely if he formed a fist. Under their tense gazes, Wolf merely turned her hand over, thumb going over the bandages still wrapped around her fingers.

"You happened."

Rowan seemed shocked at his own words. Wolf gave him a look (which turned Rowan's shock into horror) but soon lowered his gaze back to the hand he held.

"I don't remember this-"

"Never mind." Gray tried to snatch her hand away but Wolf had moved his hold over to her arm, holding out his phone with his free hand.

"Your number."

"What?"

"We gotta schedule that rematch, right?"

Gray blinked. The uncertainty only lasted for a second in her eyes before it gave way to a glacial sheen that made the previous look feel like a spring afternoon. This time, Gray did manage to pull her arm away.

"You know where to find me."

With that, Gray walked away. Eugene gingerly followed suit. Rowan took a hasty, deep gulp of his cappuccino and murmured an awkward, _'Er, anyway, thanks for the drinks,'_ before joining his friends. It was why he was the one who caught Wolf's expression. He'd expected anger, but the Union member's face held a smirk that could be interpreted as... amusement... and... something else that Rowan couldn't figure out.

The memory kept him awake that night.

* * *

By next day, both Eugene and Rowan had convinced themselves that it had all been a dream or a hallucination. The beatings they took from Ganghak may have been more serious than they'd surmised. Perhaps they should go to a hospital to have their heads checked out. Or it may have been all this studying - they were doing more of it than they had in their entire lives and it was clear that the stress has been taking a toll on them.

This was why they did not make further mention of the incident to Gray. The girl never talked about it either, which reinforced their belief. In fact, they had further proof that they were hallucinating when they got off their cram school class and went over to Gray's to pick her up. As they called out to their friend, a purple head came up beside her.

Wolf Keum grinned and waved lightly at them.

Eugene and Rowan grinned as well and waved back.

They really needed to make that hospital appointment, asap.

* * *

Eventually, the fact that Gray had witnessed the same convinced Eugene and Rowan that this was really happening. Why? Because they preferred to believe that Wolf was now attending their cram school than consider that Gray was hallucinating as well. Only, it meant that Wolf Keum of Ganghak, one of the highest-ranking members of the Union, was really attending Hero Cram School. THEIR cram school. In GRAY's class.

That last bit took a while to gain entry into their already taxed brains. It meant that Wolf actually had better grades than either Rowan or Eugene which, admittedly, wasn't the greatest of academic feats. Ganghak WAS known as one of the better schools in the area, arguably only second to Yeo-Il. Jared Sun wouldn't have bothered going through the trouble of cheating through his exams if the school was of similar calibre as, say, Eunjang.

Still, it seemed unnatural that the Mad Dog of Ganghak was capable of studying at all. But apparently that was what Wolf was doing in class, thus greatly hampering others' endeavors to do the same. Some who recognized Wolf had spent a few days worrying about their mental state, much like Eugene and Rowan, or wondered how the hell they'd gotten into this bizarre parallel dimension. Once they accepted this reality, they now had to deal with the fact that they were rabbits trapped in the same room with, well, a wolf. Except this was no ordinary wolf; they were dealing with an alpha, and a mad one at that.

Even those who had no idea who Wolf was still caught on to some of the permeating fear and were unsettled. The only one who was seemingly unfazed was Gray Yeon, a stance that wasn't shared by the rest of the Eunjang family.

* * *

"Here's what we should do. We go there. We punch him away."

Alex's solution was met with an enthusiastic approval from Ben. Gerard Jin proved to be the voice of reason.

“I dunno. From what you guys have been telling me, he isn’t actually _doing_ anything, is he?”

"Well, he's studying," Rowan replied, his tone hinting that this was a terrible enough deed.

Ben hit the wall, growling, "Just the fact that he's anywhere NEAR Gray is... is... That's practically harassment!"

"Damn straight. Doesn't she have grounds for a restraining order or something?"

Gerard and Rowan tried their best to stop Ben and Alex from tearing down the walls of their hard-found hideout in their rage.

"What about you two then. He's not being... threatening or anything?" asked Gerard as he deftly placed the guitar on the top shelf, safely out of harm's way.

Eugene scratched her cheek, unsure about the answer. Unless he was at least an ocean away, Wolf’s very existence was a threat. But surprisingly...

"He's been... well... pretty relaxed, actually."

A handful of days had passed since Wolf had enrolled into Hero Cram School. At this point, Rowan and Eugene were well established as unwilling participants in any conversation involving him. Wolf wasn't much for small talk; a small blessing. In spite of this, sometimes the tension (likely only on their part because Wolf and Gray seemed perfectly comfortable with the silences) became too much. Either Rowan or Eugene would start talking, just to get some respite.

But it was clear that most of Wolf's interest lay in keeping close to Gray. All of his interest WAS Gray, period. Studying was just a tool to keep himself in the same vicinity. Since the Eunjang Trio were mostly together outside their classes, Wolf had inserted (okay, perhaps ‘ _thrust’_ was a more appropriate word) himself into the group. It got to the point where most of the cram school took them as a quartet nowadays.

Both Eugene and Rowan had been understandably disconcerted. Looking at the reactions of their Eunjang friends, they had realized that there was more to it. It was this: Gray exuded a certain aura that made her unapproachable. It was as if she judged the cost of every millisecond she bestowed, and you'd _better_ make it worth her while. Even Ben had been cautious when he'd asked her to hang out, fully expecting to be rebuffed. It was a source of pride for the Eunjang group that they were the select few she'd willingly take time out of her day to be with.

It was infuriating that Wolf intruded into that precious time; not exempt like the rest of them, but confident that he could _afford_ _to_.

As for Gray, she had mostly ignored Wolf for the initial couple of days, but recently...

"He keeps asking for help from Gray regarding cram school work."

"And she... agrees?"

Eugene couldn't blame Alex for sounding dumbfounded. She wished she could share the sight she'd come upon this Wednesday at the cram school; a grey head and a purple one almost touching as their respective owners sat side-by-side, poring over an open workbook. Well, Gray was. Wolf was poring over something (read: _someone_ ) else. Perhaps it was just as well she couldn't share the image with her friends. It was enough that she was haunted by it.

Ben tried to come up with a reasonable explanation.

"Maybe she can't help herself. You know how she is when it comes to studying."

"Just what the hell is the bastard planning?"

"I don't think he is really the planning type-"

"Anyway, we can't just let that rabid dog stay near you guys."

Eugene hesitated a bit and, with a quiet but no less notable determination, spoke, "I'm not sure it's... right for us to get involved. I mean, Gray did say-"

"That I'll handle it."

Everyone's heads whipped towards the door which they didn't hear open. Gray entered the room, her expression inscrutable. Alex, with a flustered face, rushed towards her.

"Gray! We were just- Worried, I mean, that _bastard_ -"

"Yeah, I know."

Gray swept a glance at her friends.

"It's okay, he did say he just wanted to see me. That's all he's doing."

To prevent Alex and Ben from exploding then and there, Gerard stepped up.

"Um, Gray... Don't you think that is something to be... concerned about? I mean, it sounds... _creepy_."

Gray lowered her gaze a little. Her next words were spoken so quietly that it almost sounded like she was murmuring to herself.

"...Well, it works both ways..."

"What?"

"I'm trying to decide,"

"Decide what?"

"Whether it's worthwhile."

Her friends could glean no more from her on that particular topic.

* * *

Eugene Gale had been right in her assessment of Wolf Keum. He wasn't the planning sort. The decision to enroll into the cram school had been spontaneous and completely natural because currently, that was the only surefire way to achieve what he wanted: continue to see the Mamba.

To his mild surprise, Wolf didn't find the presence of Elbow Man and Four-Eyes nearly as annoying as he'd expected. He'd met plenty of idiots who'd flaunted the size of their balls, only to readily abandon them after he’d rearranged their faces. While the two Eunjang students were obviously scared stiff of him, they refused to back off. Wolf could find it in himself to appreciate that sort of tenacity.

Besides, they were useful as sources of information concerning the Mamba since the girl in question hardly says anything about herself. Through them, Wolf learned that the Mamba was a different breed altogether from the usual kind thugs he was used to. For one thing, she was completely unaware and uncaring about the delinquent hierarchy in the area – up to and including her own status. Not that she _was_ a delinquent, Wolf could now tell, but she was a named monster for sure.

Still. There was something to be said about the sheer levels of disregard she has when she truly doesn’t care.

* * *

Wolf stared at her, something he does often nowadays, but for once, it was more out of sheer disbelief than anything else.

The Mamba shrugged, and he blinked.

…She really _didn’t_ know who he was when they first laid eyes on each other, which begs the question.

“Then why the hell did you stare, Mamba.” 

“You were sitting there, on a damn _crate_ , with that purple hair, dangling your cigarette in an area full of cram schools, and you expect people _not_ to stare?”

Wolf blinked again.

* * *

Studying was more of a by-product than a tool, really. It was deliberate on Wolf's part to ask for help from the Mamba. He soon learned that she caught on lightning-quick when he was outright lying or when he wasn't paying attention. Then she'd just walk away without a word. So, he'd deigned to put in some effort which made her stay longer. Talk to him longer. The effort he put in increased accordingly.

Had Donald Na known about it, he might have had something to say about positive reinforcement. _'Just like dog training,’_ he’d add, with that particular tone which was capable of causing instant amnesia in Wolf in regards to what had happened the last time he tried to blindly punch the Union Leader.

What he liked the most, though, was watching the Mamba. 

It was almost akin to being drunk - if one could drink someone with their eyes.

The way the sickly fluorescent light of the room changes when brushing down her hair in a luminous trickle; the way her long lashes draped shadows over her eyes, casting them in a deeper shade of violet; how those eyes flared up at times whenever something irritated her (which was himself, at least for the first few days). The smooth line of her neck, the long-fingered hands, that pale skin that made his teeth itch. 

Then there was the way she moved. There was nothing _extra_ about it, even in her expressions, in how she talked. It contrasts starkly with others whose manners are often excessive to the point of tackiness - be it in the form of gestures, speech, trinkets or brands they'd armour themselves with. Mamba, on the other hand, acts as if she carefully measures any energy expended down to even single strands of facial muscles, abhorring any waste.

It gave Wolf a sort of high to know a part of that energy was spent on him.

For she also watched him.

She didn’t make it a secret, but neither was she so blatant that others were aware of it. It was more that she didn't hide what she was doing from Wolf.

Her gaze was like snowflakes landing on him, edges tickling and prickling before melting through. He relished it.

All in all, Wolf was enjoying himself. It was a new experience, having something to look forward to everyday.

What happened at the end of the week trumped all that.

It was during a break; a light touch upon his shoulder, a soft whisper right by his ear.

"Tomorrow, Saturday. 10am. In front of the cram school."

The words were a cold, velvety touch that slid under his skin, slowly stroking down his spine while shedding slivers of ice that cascaded down to settle in his stomach.

"This time, I'm choosing the time and place."

After the last sibilant syllable, the Mamba left him.

Wolf stayed frozen for a while. Then, he expelled an almost-laugh.

"Ha-"

The taste of frost seared his tongue, his throat. The only thing comparable was the chill he'd felt when Donald Na had suddenly draped an arm over him that day, but how he’d reacted to _that_ couldn't be more different to _this_. This was the sort of chill that set his insides on fire.

He could barely control the shiver of pure ecstasy that ran through his body.

* * *

A minute later, Rowan nearly collided with Wolf who had just burst out of his classroom.

"Wha-? H-hey? Where-!"

"I'm going to break something if I stay."

Rowan swallowed his tongue after he took a look at the other's face.

With that, Wolf rushed past him.

Rowan backed into a wall. His knees gave out and he slid down.

He'd never seen such a terrible smile on anyone before. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wasn't going to divide this chapter into two parts, but somehow, it kept getting longer.


	4. This is going to take some getting used to - Pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This might count as progress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Chapter Updated] Many thanks to RavenCarver for the great editing and wonderful suggestions!
> 
> I cannot believe that I originally planned these particularly titled chapters to be one single chapter.

"What was that?"

Wolf Keum stared up at the figure straddling him. 

The Mamba looked down at him with equal intensity as she withdrew her hands, dropping the last remnants of her now-useless weapon. Just moments ago, it had been a porcelain bowl that’d crashed right beside Wolf Keum's head. 

_‘Or perhaps not so useless,’_ Wolf thought, amused. She'd probably find the sharp pieces handy. He could feel something trickle down the side of his face. Apparently, some shards had already found their mark there. Wolf looked at the Mamba's hand. He was strangely relieved to find no red staining it. 

Priorities finally set straight, he allowed himself a moment to recall the events that had led up to this fight.

He remembered that small hand taking his wrist when he'd grown impatient and turned a wrong corner. He'd been a little surprised that she'd done it so casually. The feeling of soft flesh somehow made his insides itch and burn. She had let go all too soon and Wolf Keum had seriously debated whether to pretend losing his way or not. He gave up on that idea because the Mamba would no doubt catch on and call the whole thing off. Wolf had never had to worry about offending the opponent he was about to fight. It was a novel experience in and of itself. 

The place that the Mamba had picked was about a ten-minute walk away from the cram school where they'd had their rendezvous. A construction site had been abandoned after the initial ground preparations. It nestled in an alley behind some old buildings, the sandy ground peppered with random plants and various junk. There was even a rusted fence that provided some sort of ring. 

And the fight itself… Well.

* * *

The Mamba turned around, staring at him wordlessly. Wolf stared back. After a while, her eyebrows crinkled into a slight frown. Only then did it come to him.

She'd deliberately looked him in the eye for three seconds. 

Wolf dawdled, drawing idle patterns in the sand with his feet for a bit. Then, without warning or breaking eye contact, swung with his right arm. 

The Mamba didn’t bat an eye as the blow stopped just before her face. 

Wolf’s face broke into a grin. 

"How'd ya guess?"

"Not a guess."

“Huh.” With that non-committal reply, Wolf pulled back his fist in a slow, exaggerated manner, almost caressing the other's cheek. The Mamba's gaze followed its movement. 

Wolf wasn’t exactly expecting it, but neither was he surprised when a sweeping kick blurred at the edge of his vision. It'd have crushed into his knee joint if this'd been the first fight between them. As it was, he countered it with his own kick. Or tried to. The Mamba had read him and spun the other way, letting Wolf's foot barely brush along the side of her leg. 

It was on. 

The first thing he'd learned mere seconds into the fight was that it was damn near impossible to lay a hand on the Mamba. The economy of movement was fully at play here. He only felt the ghost of a contact whenever she avoided his blows by a hair's breadth.

The only way for him to get a hold on the slippery creature was to let her sink her fangs into him. 

So, when a belt came lashing from the side, he took the blow on his right arm and gripped it, heedless of the metal buckle that dug into his palm.

He yanked hard before the other could let go. He had the satisfaction of catching a flicker of surprise on her face when she stumbled, but she somehow used the momentum to whip out a low kick. Wolf just took it on his side and managed to grab her ankle, heaving forward, causing the other to tumble. The Mamba grit her teeth as her shoulder hit the ground, but did not cry out in pain or take her eyes off of him. Neither did Wolf, having learned from experience that once he'd gotten a hold of her, he’d damn better keep that hold. With her leg still in his vice-grip, he'd been about to punch her jugular when something seared across his eyes. His glasses had come off sometime during their fight. He didn't know when. Hadn't cared. 

He nearly gasped at the sudden sting. 

Right. Don't watch her face, but her hand. Which had just flung dirt right into his eyes. 

Wolf managed to not lose his grip even then, but couldn't help the momentary loss of his vision. It became Wolf's turn to grit his teeth as an edge of some metal junk clanged against his shin. From where she'd managed to pick it up and how she'd sent it his way, he had no idea. Or maybe she really had a scaly tail hidden somewhere on her person- 

He didn't go down. The sharp pain was more of a distraction than actual damage, but his pause was enough for the Mamba to slip out _and_ procure a new weapon- 

Wolf wasn't quite kneeling, but in his low stance, he had to look up at the oncoming figure. His vision was still blurry. He couldn't see what the Mamba had picked up, only the sunlight that bounced off of it in piercing rays. 

Time slowed. The Mamba was almost a silhouette, the edges of her figure fluttering in and out of existence. With reflected sunbeams describing her form in graceful lines, she looked unreal. Intangible. It was like he was looking at a painting made entirely of subtle lights and shadows, and the slightest stirring - like breathing - would ruin the picture. So, Wolf just stared. 

The spell broke as the Mamba realized that her opponent apparently had no intention to dodge or block. 

The porcelain had grazed Wolf's hair as the Mamba altered the trajectory of the blow at the very last moment. It had cost her her balance and she crashed right into Wolf. 

And now- 

* * *

"What was that," the Mamba repeated, still sitting on him. 

"What was that?" Wolf drawled in turn, flicking his head towards the shattered bowl. "Thought that was meant for my head?"

"You were just standing there. Staring. Are you _trying_ to get killed?"

"Nah." Wolf grinned. "Couldn't have been worse than that damn flowerpot."

"Is this a joke to you?"

Wolf just continued to look at the figure above him. He busied himself by drinking in those darkly luminous eyes and the way they were framed by silver eyelashes. Not to mention that sweat-slicked pale skin, now tinted red. Had he been anyone else but Wolf, he'd have admitted that it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Since he _was_ Wolf, the closest he could come up with was that the sight was something he wouldn't mind looking at forever. Wolf raged at himself for being knocked out at the end of their previous fight. _‘_ _What had I missed?’_ He inwardly vowed to never lose consciousness, ever, while fighting the Mamba. 

He felt her rapid breathing through the slight tremor that ran through him where their bodies touched. It sent ticklish sensations to his belly. 

"…Struck."

Wolf only knew that the word had come out of his mouth from the way the Mamba frowned. He tried to give something less haphazard. 

"Sun... struck? You know. Light. In my eyes.” He tapped one of his eyes, supplying the action with a barking laugh. He saw the Mamba flinch as she _felt_ the laughter through the rippling muscles of his stomach. She made as if to stand-

Wolf grabbed her by the waist and flipped them over.

Their positions reversed, Wolf immediately placed a hand around her neck. He squeezed just short of pain. Probably. Wolf wasn't used to self-control. 

It was nothing less than expected of the White Mamba, but Wolf was still impressed when she didn't let out any sound of surprise. Instead, her fingers were suddenly right over his left eye. 

"I could crush your throat," Wolf snarled. In fact, it was an effort not to. His hand wrapped around the whole of her neck easily. Too narrow. Too soft. Too fragile. 

"I could push through your eye," the Mamba countered, as if she were making a mere observation rather than a threat, "right into your brain."

Seconds passed. 

Wolf huffed and relinquished his hold. The Mamba withdrew her fingers as Wolf got up. 

"Hell of an anti-climax," Wolf declared, scratching at the back of his neck.

"Your fault," spoke the Mamba. Again, a statement, not an accusation. Wolf snorted but couldn't really deny it. He knew that that was it for the day. The fight had... well, bled out. It left his senses dulled. 

He roughly wiped the blood trickling down his cheek and found himself blinking at the sanitary tissue shoved up to him. The Mamba didn't wait for him to take it and practically hung it over his hand. By sheer reflex, he pressed it against the bleeding wound. The alcoholic sting stirred his thoughts awake. 

"About-" Another shove severed his words. "Where the fuck did you find those!"

"You dropped them earlier. Luckily, they landed among the grass."

"Take note of everything, do you?" Wolf said peevishly as he took up his glasses, miraculously whole. He was slightly offended that the Mamba could spare her attention on such a minor detail during their fight. 

"And you don't." She turned as she murmured, "You could afford to. Up until now, at least."

Wolf wasn't attuned to subtleties of others' emotions, so he wondered if he'd imagined something that slightly tinged in the seemingly impassive tone. But then again, he wasn't that imaginative either. Was it mockery, or something approaching... bitterness? 

"Listen, about the fight-"

He trailed off into swearing as he used the same tissue to clean his glasses and blood smeared over.

"We should have another one. This hardly counts."

The Mamba looked at him in the eye as she'd done when they'd arrived - well over three seconds. Then, she sighed. 

"I suppose this is…" For the first time since that day on the rooftop, she seemed unsure, mimicking Wolf's previous gesture by fingering her neck, upon which a splash of a bruise was forming. 

"Useful," she concluded. "Next time, then-" 

In revenge, Wolf drove his hand forwards, blocking the passage of her next words. This time, the Mamba found herself blinking at the phone right before her face.

"Might as well make it regular," said Wolf, pressing the phone into her hand. She rolled her eyes and took it as if she were indulging an insufferable child, entering her number and returning it. Upon receipt, Wolf immediately pushed the call button and playfully talked into the phone. 

"Tomorrow?"

She merely checked the number on the screen and killed the call. 

"Some of us have Monday to consider."

Wolf hummed. The rejection didn't bother him because the sight of the Mamba saving his number caused inordinate delight.

"The fuck was up with you that day on the rooftop?"

The air froze. 

A sudden chill crept underneath Wolf's skull, quite unlike the one that had slid down his spine when the Mamba had whispered into his ear at cram school.

He'd heard about the metaphor of 'stepping on a landmine' during a conversation. It was the first time he'd actually experienced it. 

Of course, Wolf being Wolf, he figured the best way was to just trigger it, and go through the explosion. 

"You're as slippery as a snake. But before, you were more like a friggin' deer facing headlights-" 

"That's none of your business."

The curt reply was like a knife. 

But Wolf's hide is thick. 

"I mean, if you end up fighting on a rooftop again, that might be a problem-" 

"That won't be an issue anymore."

She didn't even glance at him as she threw the words while walking away. Wolf was forced to trot after her. 

* * *

The walk back to the cram school was silent. Well, the walk earlier had also been silent, but while that one had been filled with throbbing anticipation, it now seemed that an invisible wall had been erected between them. 

Wolf knew he'd somehow messed up. His irritation at the fact grew. It was like accidentally dropping the last morsel of a fine, juicy steak. Sure, you've had most of it but that last soiled piece of meat rendered the whole meal unsatisfactory. It had been _good_ , even with the 'anticlimactic' stop, right up to where the Mamba had saved his number- 

"You don't take the bus."

The words startled him like pebbles thrown across the surface of his thoughts.

The Mamba was looking at him with narrowed eyes. Only then did Wolf realize that he'd followed her all the way to the bus stop. 

"I'll"-Wolf paused to consider the sheer unfamiliarity of the act he was proposing-"see you off?"

The girl huffed. With almost comedic timing, the bus arrived just then as if she'd summoned it. She climbed in wordlessly without a backward glance. The driver did a double take when he took in Wolf's bloodied appearance before closing the door rather hastily, possibly afraid that the boy would get in. 

Unlike the first time they'd met, the Mamba didn't look at him through the window as the bus drove away. 

Wolf spat out a whispery 'fuck' and started walking, hands shoved into his pockets. 

Five minutes later, his phone shook. 

He absently swiped it to read the message. 

_We can do it on a rooftop next time._

The weekend crowd started giving a wide berth to a certain purple-haired young man who was grinning maniacally. 

A good dessert can save a meal, after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there's going to be part three.


	5. This is going to take some getting used to - Pt 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Wolf and Gray settle into their routine, there are changes that others need to adjust to. 
> 
> And Wolf may be starting to realize something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, many thanks to RavenCarver for proofreading and editing. You're wonderful and a treasure. 
> 
> This chapter addresses a bunch of tidbits that was mentioned in the first chapter.

Next Monday found Wolf wearing a set of new bandages and a smile that dazzled.

Forrest Lee was to be the that smile’s worst-hit victim. 

Considering his status as arguably the most industrious member of the Union and how he'd backstabbed his former leader, he’d deserved the beatings dished out by Big Ben. He'd deserved the snubbing by Donald Na. But! Even _he_ didn't deserve _this_.

He’d been performing the grim task of reporting to the Ganghak leader alone (despite being the notorious delinquent he was, he _did_ look after his people) and had happened to actually crash into the bane of his existence the moment he’d stepped onto school premises. Wolf had been looking at his phone and only looked up after a barely-stifled yelp escaped the stricken Hyeongshin leader.

"What is it, loser?"

Forrest Lee didn’t even register the familiar derogatory term.

You see, there are people online who had, after coming across Wolf's issagram profile pic, in their ignorance dared to call him 'cute'. But even _they_ picked up on a certain edge in his smile. To date, not one of them hadn’t declared that they'd only admire him from behind the safety of their screens.

With that edge shorn off, Wolf's smile proved to be fatal.

Forrest Lee hardly remembered surrendering the work files. He couldn't recall what, or whether, he’d spoken. The usual insults may have been thrown at him as par for the course, but they’d dissipated in the light of Wolf's smile.

It only occurred to Forrest the next day that the source of this phenomenon may have been someone who had been texting Wolf at the time. The teenager himself had seemed to barely acknowledge Forrest's presence, what with his attention mostly centered on his phone.

Forrest’s flash-fried mind currently wasn’t ready for any higher brain functions, however. Upon returning to Hyoengshin, he spent the rest of the day lying down in the nurse's office, mercifully alone. His presence can cause the bolstering of spontaneous recovery with other injured students, something he abused in his absent-minded state.

Robin and Grape fussed over their fallen leader, urging him to tell them what sort of humiliation the Mad Wolf of Ganghak had forced upon him that made him end up in such a state.

Forrest Lee never managed to explain.

* * *

Having left behind a trail of brain-dead students in his own school and forced his lackeys to undergo a self-induced short-term amnesia, Wolf Keum proceeded to, quite unwittingly, lay waste to Hero Cram School.

Rowan Im's soul spent most of the evening ineffectually trying to push itself through the metaphorically broken head of his body.

Only Gray Yeon seemed immune. Although, the sight of her commenting on the slapdash job Wolf Keum had done with his bandages and her subsequently re-applying those bandages while he sat quite happily and peacefully - two words that had no business describing Wolf Keum - had not helped anyone's already afflicted mentality.

Eugene would've been struck just as hard if she didn’t have a more imminent and personal matter to deal with.

"Er, so... you might not remember me-"

"Ganghak, I remember. You... took me and my friend over to Wolf Keum."

"Um, yeah."

Eugene was surprised at herself for being able to answer so casually. Then again, the fact that she was now on speaking terms with Wolf Keum had taken most of the usual fear away.

"I-I'm Hwangmo Joo. Uh, about that time-"

He scratched his brightly-colored head, not looking at her in the eye.

"I, er, had no idea that you were a girl-"

"So, it'd been okay if I weren't?"

"...No? No! Of course not! That's not it! I'm-I'm just saying-"

 _'You held me back from helping my friend and hit me repeatedly over a_ mistaken _identity.'_

Eugene phrased her grievances in her head and it almost rekindled the anger. However, it soon fizzed out at the sight of the orange-head in front of her trying to make himself appear as small and harmless as possible.

Most of the cram school students still took a detour upon seeing this hulk of a man blocking the passage.

Hwangmo suddenly stood with his back straight, nostrils flaring and face set with firm decision.

"Hit me."

Eugene gawked at the looming figure over her bag which she clutched like a shield.

"You know, payback. Hit me as much as you want."

"...Right now? Here?"

"Oh." The orange-head looked around. A handful students at the mouth of the hallway were whispering, looking anxiously at the unlikely pair. Hwangmo immediately lowered his stance.

"Er, maybe... Is there a quiet corner someplace outside?"

"...I think I'd hurt myself trying."

"You can use... things? Like your friend, the Mamba?"

"And my class starts soon-"

"Oh, no prob. I'll wait."

The fearsome Union member looked more like a teddy bear at that moment. An earnest one. Some treacherous part of Eugene flashed the word _'cute!!!'_ in neon letters inside her skull before fleeing like some stealth graffiti artist.

"Just an apology would do."

Eugene hid most of her face behind the bag as she felt herself becoming heated. Hwangmo blinked a few times. He awkwardly scratched his cheek.

"I'm... sorry. Really, for that time."

Hwangmo looked at her sheepishly.

"So, are you… alright? I mean, did you recover okay-"

"Oh, yeah. Sure. Fine now. I'm used it, it's not like I can't take beatings-"

Her heart nearly shot out of her throat at the sight of the orange head surging up. The teddy bear was gone. In its place was very much a wild bear, exuding hostile heat, ready to kill.

"What! When! WHO!"

"No one! Not-not anymore! A long time ago!"

The whispers across the hallway had increased. Some had their phones out. The receptionist lady was coming forward, eyes wide. In her haste, Eugene took hold of the other's arm which was like a tree trunk. She couldn’t wrap around it even with both of her hands.

"Keep it down! _Please_."

To her immeasurable relief, the bear was soothed. Hwangmo cleared his throat.

"Sorry."

He looked down at her hands on him. Eugene let go as if burnt. Her face _was_ burning. She flicked a glance at the Ganghak student and to her amazement saw that his face was equally inflamed.

"And... Err... I gotta say, well, I've seen guys three times your size fold after one hit. You held me while getting hit - again, I'm sorry - so yeah. You ARE pretty strong and... I wanted to say... you were very... brave…"

Eugene couldn’t reply. Her face felt like it was going to burn clean off.

A cautious voice from the far end of the hallway suddenly floated over.

"Um... Eugenie Gale, is it? Hasn’t your class started?"

The receptionist lady had obviously meant to rescue her from what seemed a dangerous delinquent. Eugene was grateful, but also a just a little bit disappointed. She spoke without looking up at the other.

“I- Gotta go and-"

"Ah, sure. And-"

The Ganghak student pushed a piece of paper into her hands.

"If-if you need me for anything or not. You can just throw it away if you want. Um. Bye!"

He turned and made a surprisingly quick beeline for the door considering his size. Credit had to be given to the crowd though; they parted before him like he was a runaway bulldozer at impressive speeds.

After dazedly looking after him until he was outside the door, Eugene finally studied the stiff piece of paper that'd been handed to her. It contained a phone number.

Somehow, the fact that it was written on a fully-marked café coupon stirred up a fluttery sensation inside her stomach.

* * *

They soon settled into a routine.

It took a while for Gray's Eunjang friends to grudgingly settle down from trying to storm Ganghak whenever they discovered new bruises or gashes. This was in spite of her assuring them that she gave more than she'd gotten and them fully believing this to be true.

Their 'sparring' mostly took place during weekends. Although, there have been a few weekday night-tumbles. Even with the two dubbing it so, the fact that it could be taken in another context completely escaped them. Had Jake Ji known, he'd have punched a wall from equal amounts of glee and frustration.

Those nights out were mainly because Grey wanted to practice fighting in the dark. Wolf wasn't so enthusiastic at first due to the reason he'd stated the first time he'd went to meet her at the cram school, but once they started, Wolf was quick to forget about his initial complaint.

There were some unexpected side-skills obtained from such bouts. The two became quite adept at first aid. It'd become a sort of ritual between the two afterwards, a way for them to come down from the high of the fight. Unsurprisingly, it took some time for Gray to convince Wolf that dirt and such substances needed to be cleaned _before_ putting bandages over everything.

Wolf Keum's grades kept rising to the point where Donald and Kingsley took notice. It was just as well that Wolf was unaware of a discussion between them one night at the Union's office; it was about setting up Wolf Keum as Ganghak's student council head and getting rid of the middleman altogether. They toyed with the idea for approximately three seconds before simultaneously discarding it. 

"Aside from the risk of him hospitalizing the school admin and thus endangering the Union's image," Kingsley had said, "there's the principle of fairness. After all, we wouldn't ask the same from Jimmy Bae or Jake Ji."

"With those two," Donald had supplied with an uncharacteristic sigh, "even hoping that they'd manage to move onto the second year would be pushing it."

For a moment, the Union head looked so genuinely tired that Kingsley was moved enough to pat him on the shoulder.

* * *

Gray preferred to vary the site of their battles as much as possible. Still, some places became more preferred than others.

A certain staff at a certain cafe in Yeoinaru had no way of knowing that one of those preferred sites lay near his workplace, and neither was he aware of the fact that the infamous Union's office was also near. In truth, Gray wasn't aware of it either. Wolf hadn't bothered to explain. Even if he had, it'd have been likely that Gray would never be bothered enough to care.

That cafe staff _was_ aware that a certain young lady in glasses often came in and took out an order for half a dozen people. He guessed that she must belong to a study group. For some reason, he could never bring himself to ask. Although polite, the tall high-schooler gave off an imposing aura that rendered her quite unapproachable.

He also came to know one more thing recently: his cafe had become an occasional abode for two very dangerous teenagers.

Perhaps it’d be more strategic to call them his saviors, except… Well.

He was frightened to death of them.

He'd been cursing his stars that day; trying to not cower in front of three burly punks bellowing at him for a seemingly wrong order (and for the record, it hadn't been a wrong order). The customers, too frightened to even attempt to leave, were folding in on themselves in their respective seats while trying to stay as invisible as possible.

Considering all the noise the punks were making, perhaps it was no wonder that nobody noticed them come in.

Also, upon further retrospect, some sort of boss music should've been playing.

It was as if the two figures had materialized before the counter; their presence was only confirmed by a clear voice asking for an order.

Taken aback by the teenagers' blasé attitude, the bullies had asked whether they couldn't see what was happening. Maybe it was all those weird-colored messes of hair obscuring their vision. One of them then reached out towards the taller of the teens and grabbed a fistful of purple hair.

The cafe staff couldn't exactly recall what had transpired for the next couple of minutes; everything had been a blur.

What he _did_ clearly remember was that after those couple of minutes, the punks were reduced to a groaning, bloody heap dumped unceremoniously outside the cafe.

Back then, he hadn’t noted their bloody and untidy appearance. When their visits became regular, he did. Wisely, he asked no questions.

The frequenters of the cafe (some of whom had been eyewitnesses to the event and some others who’d been given the word of mouth) had taken a similar approach; upon sighting the two teens inside the cafe, they’d promptly turn the other way. The staff didn’t dare persuade them otherwise.

Eventually, it became that every Saturday, a period roughly from 3pm to 4pm was unofficially reserved for the mysterious duo.

* * *

The first time Wolf sensed that something was different was at the Yeondeungpo bus stop.

They’d just finished one of their rare weekday bouts due to cram school closing for boiler repair or something. One sudden shower later and they were soaked by the time they’d reached the bus stop. It wasn’t that unpleasant; the battle-heat that still simmered along their bodies kept them from being cold. It also helped that the rain had cleaned away most of the blood and dirt.

Still, Wolf hated rainy days on general principle. He hated the clinging smell of the crowded city: the tang of sweat, the runny streets, the tarry vapors vomited by vehicles splattering filth. He moved closer to the Mamba while seeking that cleansing scent, absently looking down.

The Mamba was covered in a thin white shirt for her jacket had had been used as a makeshift restraint in their previous fight. Said jacket was currently hanging from her arms in a rather disreputable state. The rain had thinned the flimsy, white cloth into a transparent film stuck to flesh, revealing the curve that flowed from the nape down to a narrow shoulder.

The delicate line held Wolf’s gaze.

It was like the world was focused into that one single sight.

The pale skin seemed to give off a subtle glow - almost translucent. It looked like something that could be broken with a breath, so fragile that the stark white bra strap that cut through seemed painful.

But it was Wolf himself who felt pain like someone was plucking at his nerves, and the hum of it rang through his body. The aching echo congealed into a sort of desperate urge that gripped him from the inside.

He needed to do _something_ with that gossamer line of flesh. Touch it, taste it, bite it and swallow it down – but all that wouldn’t be enough. Not nearly so. You couldn’t _possess_ a line of someone’s body, and that inability frustrated Wolf. And yet, a part of him relished even in that frustration.

A snigger broke the spell.

Fiery anger, as sudden as the urge that’d come upon him, burned through whatever hold he’d been under. Wolf whipped his head to the side.

Three men were grinning at them. The one with bleached hair pointed to the pale figure in front of Wolf and nodded to his companions. The look that was shared between them could only be called lascivious.

Wolf turned fully and snarled. The man exhaled an exaggerated _‘Ooooh’_. They obviously had no idea who he was and were merely amused to see a high-schooler raising hackles at them. Normally, _that_ would’ve been enough for Wolf’s three-second rule.

But that paled in comparison to the unpardonable sin they’d already committed; it was like they’d spat on something sacred. That alone earned them a status worthy of death. Wolf took a step towards them.

He stopped as he felt a soft touch on his hand.

He turned to meet the Mamba’s questioning look. The Mamba had turned to face him, the new stance leading to her whole front being exposed–

She let out a surprised sound as the red Ganghak uniform jacket landed on her.

“What-”

“Shut up,” muttered Wolf, wrapping the garment tighter around her even as she protested.

“I’m not cold-”

“Just keep the damn thing on.”

The chorus of _‘Aww’ s_ from the peanut gallery made Wolf grind his teeth. The Mamba looked over his shoulder and frowned when Wolf moved to block her from being seen, but she seemed to have given up protesting.

“This smells like cigarettes,” the Mamba murmured, lightly holding onto the edge of the jacket.

“Well, you’re going to shower anyway, right?” Wolf spoke without looking at her. His glare was pinned on the three who were still having fun jeering at them. 

“Wolf.”

The quiet voice turned his attention back. The Mamba pointed at the bus that had somehow managed to arrive without him noticing. Alright, so he must’ve been madder than he thought.

The Mamba made to take the jacket off but Wolf pulled it tighter around her and practically shoved her toward the bus.

“ _Keep it on_. Just give it back to me tomorrow.”

The slightest of creases formed along her brow again. She threw a glance to the side and Wolf followed her gaze. The three bastards were disappearing into the bus that’d pulled up behind the Mamba’s. The Mamba, sharp as she was, obviously realized that a triple murder had just been averted. She seemed to be busily gauging the motive.

At that point, the bus driver cleared his throat impatiently.

“Fine,” the Mamba finally responded, pulling up the jacket with an annoyed sigh. She paused just before the final step up the bus to look back at him. “See you tomorrow.”

The door closed, and the bus sped through the rain.

By the time he got to where he’d parked his bike, it occurred to Wolf that this was the first time she’d called him by his name. 

* * *

As the self-appointed bard of the Epic Saga of the Yeundeungpo Delinquents, Hugo Yoon knew that he was facing his greatest challenge to date.

It didn’t seem possible that his stars included anything that’d trump the debut of the White Mamba, but there it was: Wolf Keum and the White Mamba, in _his_ cram school, in the _same_ class. It was something so unlikely it was commonly referred to as impossible.

That was the problem.

Hugo himself had doubted his own sanity for the first few days after he’d sighted Wolf in his class. It was no wonder that this was something people would have trouble believing.

He’d tested the waters with a couple of anonymous posts on some online communities. They were considered as some form of Yeundeungpo delinquent fanfiction. _‘Even then_ ’ _,_ many posters chided, _‘you could aim for some realism. Wolf Keum in a cram school? **Please** ’_.

He needed to bide his time. Meanwhile, he concentrated on etching every surreal moment of the two monsters together in his memory. He even dropped tidbits of cryptic hints to his closest friends.

* * *

_“Hey, did you hear that about Wolf Keum…”_

_“Huh? What?”_

_“Nah, I mean, it’s just a rumor. Surely that cannot be true. Wolf Keum?_ Come on.”

 _“What? WHAT?_ What about Wolf Keum?”

* * *

However, perhaps there _were_ instances where he let his imagination run away. Surely, Wolf and the Mamba couldn’t be…

Of course, there was the way their heads almost touched when they were studying together, but surely…

Hugo Yoon shook his head. He might have a talent for storytelling but it wouldn’t do to let his fancies get the better of him like this.

* * *

“Yo, where’s the Mamba?” Wolf drawled out.

“Oh! Er… Mr. Ross called her in to talk about submitting for a workbook competition–”

“Hey Eugene, isn’t it almost time for class–”

“Hey, you!”

The three happened to be dawdling just outside the cram school’s main gate when a sudden shout came their way. Eugene and Rowan turned while Wolf, apparently deaf to anything that didn’t involve Gray, absently took out a cigarette, clicked his tongue, and shoved it back into the packet.

“Hey, purple-haired kid!”

Only then did Wolf deign to give attention to the voice whose source was from one of three young men, possibly in their early twenties. Eugene and Rowan each took a sweeping look at the group and exchanged a _look_. Yes, it is unfair to judge people by their appearances. These might be perfectly respectable, well-behaved men despite the copious amount of jangling metal hanging off haphazardly from their substantial girths, their hostile sneers, and the general way they carried their weight.

But that chance was probably slim; they looked ready to throw down. As if to cement Eugene and Rowan’s impression, one with bleached hair spat on the ground and leered at Wolf.

Wolf’s gaze remained indifferent without a flicker of recognition. The man flicked his chin at him.

“Why, if it ain’t the little bus-stop knight.” So saying, the man made an exaggerated motion out of looking around. “The princess not with you today?”

“I mean”-the other, bulkier-looking one leered lecherously-“that was a real pretty sight you deprived us of that day.”

To Rowan and Eugene, it was as if a sudden wildfire had flared up right in front of them.

They stumbled back as Wolf went full beast mode. His previously dull eyes ignited with rage. Wolf leaned forward, growling.

Lacking the two golden Shuttle Patch members’ insight and instinct, the three men merely chuckled. Then Eugene felt something cold pressed into her hands. Startled, she looked up to see Wolf pass by her, muttering, “Hold my glasses.”

Despite herself, she couldn’t help feeling flattered, just a little.

The three men, unaware that their doom was imminent, were content to mock the oncoming predator.

“How cute.”

“They act so tough at that age.”

The one with the biggest grin even stepped up to meet Wolf, declaring something about teaching young upstarts a lesson.

As Eugene debated how she could, and whether she should, communicate to the unwitting three that they should run for their lives, she spotted a glimpse of light hair from the edge of her vision. Recognition dawned almost at the same moment as the glasses were gently taken from her hands.

Just as Wolf got within a meter of his prey, Gray slipped the glasses over his head.

“Class is about to start.”

The beast stopped.

There was chortling and whistling from the three men as Gray took Wolf’s wrist and led him inside the building. Wolf let himself be led.

It was Mr. Ross, who’d come up just behind Gray, who chased the men away by threatening to call the authorities. He escorted the four teenagers to their respective classes afterwards, fussing over them about how scared they had to have been. How _dare_ they harass his students?

While most of his well-meaning assumptions held true for Rowan and Eugene, the pair’s reason for being afraid couldn’t be more different. Still, they could appreciate a well-meaning authority figure.

“If those punks ever come back, call me, alright?” he fumed. “I was no slouch back in the day, if I say so myself.”

With all due honors to Mr. Ross, it wasn’t their teacher’s possibly tumultuous past that occupied Rowan and Eugene’s mind as they observed Gray and Wolf walking in front of them. The former was still holding the latter by the wrist.

The two Eunjang students knowingly looked at each other, sharing the same thought.

Only a handful of people might be able to hold Wolf’s glasses when he let loose, but only one, besides Wolf himself, was capable of slipping it back on.

* * *

As for the three punks, third time proved to be a charm. Or a reckoning.

It was after a few days that, while clubbing through Guro, the trio again happened upon a by-now-familiar purple-haired high-schooler. Having become none the wiser since their last encounter, the men poked at the wild beast once more.

This time, there was no one to slip the glasses back onto Wolf.

* * *

** Extra **

"Your hair's gotten longer."

"Mmm-hm."

"Trying out a wolf cut?"

"Was that nearly a joke, Mamba?"

“Just thinking about how it’s more convenient for me to get a hold of, like this.”

“…Actually, that feels good.”

“You’re really like a–”

“Can you pull harder?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it took this long to get to the point we were at the first chapter, whew!
> 
> The next chapter will finally deal with events that happen 'after' the first chapter. I'm excited at the prospect of writing other Union members as well as the rest of the Eunjang family!


End file.
